“And what have you found out?” Kyle asked. “Do we know where Coati is now?”
Nebula jumped down off the table and gestured theatrically, turning on a holoprojector to create a rotating globe of a green-and-blue world. The green was off, darker and yellower than usual, with splotches of black that spread across both land and water. The planet looked almost sick.
“This, for those of us whose records were wiped by an isolationist racist trillionaire three hundred years ago, is Quebecois Bien,” Nebula told them. “Fourth planet of the KDX-6647 system. The system was never officially named, and all records from the survey expedition were modified at the order of the man who bought the survey, a Jean Saint-Lacroix, to conceal that there was ever a habitable planet.”
“They hid a planet?” Tecumseh asked. “A habitable planet?”
“Saint-Lacroix intercepted the report before it made it into any general databases, from what I can tell,” Nebula replied. “He wanted a planet to set up his perfect society of atheist free-thinkers, a definition that appears to have excluded anyone who didn’t match his ideal skin tone.
“And since he didn’t want any foreign thought in his paradise, he buried the records and didn’t take the technology to build A-S drives with him,” the spy continued. “They had their original colony ship for a bit, but that was long gone by the time Giorgio Coati was scouting the region for potential mining locations.
“Imagine his surprise when, instead of an uninhabited star system he could grab minerals from with no one realizing his source, he found a somewhat backward but intact colony of over a hundred million souls.”
That would have been a shock. Somehow, Kyle didn’t think that the elder Coati had done what he would have done in his place.
“At the time, Antonio Coati was a gunship commander with the Serengeti fleet. He managed to funnel resources, money and men to his father, but they needed transport. His father’s one ship wasn’t enough.
“So, when Coati was promoted to command the detachment in the Soledad System, they felt out his subordinates and launched a quiet campaign of piracy. Once they had four ships, they launched their invasion and conquered Quebecois Bien.
“That was twenty years ago, in which time they have assembled a full, mostly modern shipyard sufficient to assemble their corsair ships, and built an entire starfighter manufacturing facility from scratch.”
“That’s more than most of the star systems out here have,” von Lambert pointed out.
“Stolen goods are never sold at a loss, Captain,” the senior Imperial analyst pointed out. “Most of what they needed, they stole. What they couldn’t steal, they had the money to buy.”
“Giorgio Coati died ten years ago, making Antonio Coati, our dear Commodore, the dictator of a planet he uses for conscripted slave labor and crews to build and man his ships and starfighters. He uses recruited mercenaries to stiffen their ranks, and it appears that all of our prisoners prior to this came from that group rather than Quebecois Bien.
“While the shipyard isn’t currently capable of building battlecruisers, given the possession of Hercules and her technical files, that’s something he can relatively quickly fix.”
“Where is Poseidon?” Tecumseh demanded, his voice grim.
“Quebecois Bien,” Nebula replied. “All of Coati’s mobile units have been recalled to have their fighters swapped out for Katanas under Poseidon’s protection. The yards themselves are heavily fortified, surrounded by fighter platforms, corsairs, and missile bases.”
“What about the planet?” Kyle asked.
“It appears they mostly let them go on as they choose, but with orbital bombardment platforms and drop squads to keep order and make sure the labor drafts are supplied on schedule. Those platforms are controlled from the primary station at the shipyard.
“If we capture or destroy the shipyard, Quebecois Bien will be safe,” Nebula told them.
“But the shipyard is fortified and guarded by Poseidon—backed by an unknown number of corsairs and Katanas?” Kyle asked.
“We don’t know how many Katanas, but we do know how many corsairs,” the spy replied. “He only has twelve left after the losses they took against us and against Commodore Tecumseh. All of them were at Quebecois Bien before we lost q-com connection to the planet.
“I can’t see Coati being likely to send them anywhere else when he has to know we’ll be coming for him.”
“And we will be,” Tecumseh said grimly. “I didn’t know the son of a bitch had enslaved a planet. No wonder he was so cavalier with his starfighter pilots. He could replace people almost as easily as he could replace ships—and he could replace both easier than we thought.”
“He plans to make this region his empire,” Nebula warned. “If he defeats us, he may well succeed. He’ll be waiting for you.”
Kyle studied the projection of the planet and the shipyard.
“Waiting for us, yes,” he agreed. “But he has no idea what’s coming.”
#
Chapter 46
KDX-6657 System
20:00 December 10, 2736 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-052 Kodiak
“At this point, it appears that all of Coati’s forces have concentrated in the KDX-6647 system,” Kyle told the three heads of state on his wallscreens. “The resources now present in that system represent a major leap forward for this sector, and it is the official position of the Alliance that those resources properly belong to the people of Quebecois Bien.”
Translation: we’ll take out Coati and liberate the planet, but then you’re going to have to negotiate with whoever ends up in charge there.
“What about KDX-6657?” Premier Yilmaz asked. “The facility that Coati’s people have set up there is of some value.”
“It was built with stolen resources,” Sultan Osman pointed out. “And sits halfway between our systems, used as a base to raid us both.”
“I am leaving a small detachment of Alliance Marines to guard the prisoners and secure the station,” Kyle told them. “The ultimate disposition of the system and the station is up to you.”
“I would suggest,” President Fatima Johansson, the leader of Serengeti, cut in, “that we arrange a mutual ownership of the station. It is a refueling platform, after all, that all of us may find useful. If we take it over as a joint facility under the Free Trade Zone rules, it also will not become a threat to any of us.”
“That…makes sense,” Osman agreed.
Yilmaz didn’t look happy, but he nodded his acquiescence. Right now, none of the three core powers of the Free Trade Zone had the military strength to force their desires on the others.
Or on any of their neighbors, which was going to have consequences for the FTZ going forward. Consequences, thankfully, which weren’t going to be Kyle’s problem.
“What do we know about Quebecois Bien?” Johansson asked. “I find the concept of an entire world in our region that none of us knew about disturbing, to say the least.”
“We don’t have much,” Kyle admitted. “Our intelligence people pulled a lot of data and historical information about the system from l’Estación de Muerte’s computers, but…there was nothing close to a full archive here.
“We’ll learn more once we have liberated the system, I’m sure. Until then, all we really know is that they were founded by a trillionaire who wanted to set up his own ‘perfect society’ and that they didn’t have the technology to stop the Coatis’ mercenaries when they decided to set up shop as planetary dictators.”
“We owe them our assistance,” Johansson insisted. “Coati was ours, Serengeti’s specifically. We will do what we can to help.”
“First, Coati needs to be removed,” Osman pointed out. “Do you have a plan, Captain?”
“We have some information on the system and the positioning of his forces, but we are six days’ travel away and expect all of that to be obsolete upon arrival,” Kyle told the leaders. “Captain von Lambert, Commodore Tecumseh,
and I will establish a better strategy on our trip there, but it will be necessary for us to scout the system before finalizing our plans.”
“How can you trust this Tecumseh?” Yilmaz demanded. “The blood of our soldiers and citizens in on his hands!”
“And the blood of his crew is on Coati’s,” Johansson reminded him. “I would not trust him to guard my system against the horrors of the Void, but he will pursue Coati to the end of the Stars for his revenge and his honor.
“I know his type,” the woman finished.
“As do I,” Kyle agreed. “We can trust Tecumseh against Coati, I think. Past that… I intend to permit him to leave your space in exchange for his assistance, but that is all. The Commonwealth remains the enemy of the Alliance.”
“They have committed acts of war and treachery in our space as well,” Osman told him. “Istanbul will speak to the leaders of the Alliance, to see what aid we can provide in this war. The Commonwealth will find they have only broadened the scope of this war they have begun.”
“My Councils will be voting in the morning,” Johansson told them. “A declaration of war against Terra and a measure to join the Alliance of Free Stars is on the agenda. We will not permit the Commonwealth’s actions here to go without response.”
Yilmaz sighed. The pudgy leader of Antioch looked unhappy, but he nodded slowly.
“Similar measures have been suggested in my own Parliament,” he admitted. “If my fellows in the Trade Zone are walking this path, then I find myself unable to stand against them.”
“The Alliance will welcome your aid and your support,” Kyle told them. He wasn’t sure if the three systems, now completing lacking in the ability to project force, would actually be useful members of the Alliance, but they wouldn’t turn aside anyone at this point.
If nothing else, the morale benefit to the Alliance’s populations of new systems signing up in the middle of a war with the most powerful nation in human space could not be understated.
“We must deal with Coati first,” he continued. “All of this depends on removing the specter of his plans from this region and liberating Quebecois Bien.”
“I suggest that we all send troop detachments to KDX-6657 to take over security of the station,” Osman said. “While they’re en route, we can come to some agreement on the judicial fate of the prisoners, but that is not a conversation we need Captain Roberts for.”
“You have a liberation to plan, Captain,” Johansson agreed. “Know that our hopes and thoughts are with you. If there is any aid any of us can give, let us know.
“Much as we would rather save ourselves, it seems the future of our systems now rests on you. May the Eternal Stars watch your path.”
#
“I’ve seen easier targets in the Imperial War College’s Kobayashi Maru scenario list,” von Lambert observed, the Imperial officer linked into the conference aboard Kodiak by q-com. His XO and CAG shared the wallscreen with him, the two Wing Commanders under Horaček in the room with them currently offscreen.
“We have a similar list,” Kyle agreed. “And this place puts most of those to shame.”
“Kobayashi Maru” scenarios were suicide missions used in training exercises. Generally, their purpose was to teach prospective officers to recognize when to cut their losses, though some of them were set up so that clever thinking could win the day.
Most of the offensive scenarios in that list, however, were designed to force officers to accept lesser victories rather than lose ships and lives trying to actually succeed at the official objective.
The defenses around Quebecois Bien put most of those to shame. The Coatis had clearly been determined to make sure that no one took their little corner of the galaxy away from them, and the addition of Poseidon to the defenders didn’t help.
Layered networks of manned and automated platforms surrounded both the planet and the high-orbital shipyards. The defenses of any major Alliance system would be more modern, but few systems Kyle had seen had defenses this dense.
The battlecruiser and twelve corsairs had been orbiting with the shipyards when the q-com connection to KDX-6657 had been cut. Any of them might have moved, but it wasn’t going to make too much difference.
“The good news,” Nebula pointed out, “is that I don’t think Coati will have expected us to get quite so much information out of the computers here. In all honesty, we wouldn’t have on our own—and neither would the Terrans. Combined, however, we got everything.
“And they had a lot of data in here on those defenses,” he continued. “More than was wise, really.”
“Thankfully, pirates have a horrible sense of information security,” Taggart agreed.
“Given that they have an entire planet, are these people really pirates?” Song asked. “That’s a lot more resources and firepower than a pirate fleet would normally command. There are almost two thousand defensive platforms in orbit!”
“And they’re all obsolete garbage,” Sterling pointed out. “None of them have lances over the three-hundred-kiloton range. The missile launchers were loaded with home-built eight-hundred-gravity weapons. They might have updated some of them, but it’s unlikely they reloaded four hundred platforms.
“The Terrans didn’t give them that many missiles.”
“They’ll have been building their own,” Kyle replied. “We have to assume that those platforms are carrying modern Stormwinds or a near equivalent. The truth, however, is that we can deal with the platforms. Immobile defenses are critically vulnerable to long-range missile fire, and the intel suggests a far lower proportion of manned control stations than we would have accepted.”
“But we can’t do it while twelve raiders, a battlecruiser, and an ungodly number of Katanas swarm us,” Song concluded.
“We know we can take out the raiders in one pass with Williams’s bombers,” Taggart pointed out. “Can we really justify keeping them secret at this point?”
Kyle glanced over at Williams, the Wing Commander sitting quietly with her fellows but looking eager.
“Commander Williams, how would you stack your ships up against Poseidon?” he asked her.
“It…depends,” she admitted slowly. “At maximum range, she has ten minutes to respond to our launch. That’s more than enough time to fire missiles and get fighters into space for missile defense.”
“A Commonwealth group would be in space, even completely surprised, in three minutes,” von Lambert pointed out. “But these aren’t Commonwealth pilots. They’re conscripts—and conscripts who are so ill-trusted, their computers are programmed to lie to them.”
“Let’s be generous and say it would take five minutes for them to deploy,” Kyle suggested. “They’d still have thirty starfighters in space to block Williams’s salvo. Coati has seen torpedoes in action now; he’s going to expect capital-ship-grade jammers and brains.
“We might still take her out, but then we also have to protect the bombers from Poseidon’s fighters.”
“So, we fire at five minutes’ flight time instead of ten,” Michelle replied. “We take out the cruiser before she can launch fighters.”
“And how exactly are going to sneak twenty-four bombers to half a million kilometers away from her?” Song asked.
“We don’t. We go in with a base velocity, at least two thousand KPS,” Michelle told her boss. “That gives us over a million-kilometer range at five minutes’ flight time.”
“We can come out of Alcubierre with that,” Kyle told the others. “But to get within even a million kilometers of Poseidon, we need to know exactly where she is—and we will be at risk from her lances at that range.”
“You need her looking somewhere else,” von Lambert said slowly. “And we need live data. There’s only one way to manage both.”
#
Chapter 47
KDX-6647
04:00 December 17, 2736 2736 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
SC-153 Chariot
As the air itself in Chariot’s b
ridge started to tear apart and scream, James Tecumseh concluded that Kyle Roberts was possibly the craziest bastard he’d ever met. At no point in the Commodore’s entire career had he ever attempted to “thread the needle” and ride the careful balance of stabilizers and mass-singularity-balancing necessary to emerge from Alcubierre drive inside the generally designated gravity well of a planet or star.
From the intel reports he’d read, it was starting to become the Stellar Fox’s default tactic, and James had allowed himself to be talked into it.
“We can’t hold this together much longer,” Arsenault said over the channel. “We only just replaced the stabilizers and we’re going to lose them!”
“Sixty more seconds,” Modesitt told him. “You’ve got to hold it together for sixty more seconds, Commander!”
James winced as the screaming noise edged up another octave, his implants automatically shielding his ears to prevent damage.
“Why the hell did we agree to this?” he demanded.
“Because we’ve all got a guilty conscience over helping Coati?” Chariot’s Captain suggested. “And because the whole scheme is insane, what’s one more crazy stunt?”
“It’s very Stellar Fox,” James agreed.
“Hang on!” Arsenault suddenly snapped. “We’re lost too many stabilizers; I’m dropping the warp and this is going to hurt!”
The universe broke around James Tecumseh. He felt his own flesh twisting as reality tried to object to the sudden re-intrusion of Chariot’s bulk and presence, and swallowed something resembling a scream…
Then it was over, the screens and tactical feeds lighting to life as Chariot emerged into real-space, barely one point five million kilometers from Quebecois Bien.
Rimward Stars (Castle Federation Book 5) Page 33